Martin bawled an order. A whistle piped, and there was a great clatter and rustling of rope running loose, a mighty splash that drove the birds in tumult into the air; and the Royal James swung to her cable close under the lesser island's shore. My great-uncle waved one hand over the bulwark.
"Skeleton Island this is called, Robert," he said. "I tell you because you demonstrate so gruesome an interest in the more horrifying episodes of our past. But I regret I must confess that I know of no authentic detail to account for the nomenclature. Pirates have a way of naming a spot to suit themselves, without rime or reason, if the fancy once moves them."
"May we land?" I answered, ignoring his gibe.
"Suit yourselves," he returned with a shrug. "I must have all my men busy aboard here, however, and can spare none to guide you."
"Ja, ja," urged Peter. "We shoodt some goats, eh?"
"If you please," agreed Murray. "Ben Gunn will find you a brace of light muskets preferable to our rack-blunderbusses. I'll have the gig put overside, and you may row yourselves, if you will."
"Are you not afraid we may plan to escape?" I asked curiously.
"How?" he countered. "Look about you."
"We might fashion ourselves a vessel," I declared. "A raft, at the least."
"And whither would you go?" he pressed me. "These seas are unfrequented and tempestuous. Also, I do not think that you would be able to construct a vessel in the amount of uninterrupted time I should allow you. And finally, my dear nephew, I must remind you that you have promised your aid to me in a certain matter."